


imaginary illness

by Laeana



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up & Making Up, Family Issues, Friendship/Love, Getting Together, Healing, Jos Verstappen's A+ Parenting, Love Confessions, M/M, Muteness, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Psychological Trauma, Trust Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:55:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28076583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana
Summary: After an especially violent argument with his father, Max locks himself up.Warned only later, Daniel comes to comfort the younger one and realizes this one can no longer speak ...
Relationships: Daniel Ricciardo/Max Verstappen, Pierre Gasly/Charles Leclerc (implied)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	imaginary illness

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Romantic_at_Heart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romantic_at_Heart/gifts).
  * A translation of [IMAGINARY ILLNESS](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21059933) by [Laeana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laeana/pseuds/Laeana). 



> hope you'll enjoy this one too!

The weather is clouding over, it's not good. Or at least that's what Daniel told himself. He has had a bad feeling since this morning and which has not left him even after the end of the race. Finishing fourth but he just feels drained afterwards.

He changed and stationed himself near his booth, not having much to do. He waits, he knows something is going to happen. Further on, he can see Alex talking with big gestures to Seb and Pierre, looking a little panicked. He approaches them immediately.

“Is everything fine ?” 

“Oh, Dan, great. Can you come with me ?”

The Thai man seems really relieved to see him. What exactly happened? He runs a hand through his curls.

“Yes, just, why ?” he answers, raising an eyebrow.

“There is ... uh ... a problem with Max. You are his former teammate, you could find a solution.”

Max ? He has not seen him since the end of the race. He suddenly feels worried. Is he okay ? He and the Dutch stayed on good terms, although their distance hampered what they were building a bit.

“Is it serious ? Tell me what exactly happened ?”

“He had a rather violent argument with his father but I don’t know why. The latter was really hard on him, I had never seen Max looking so bad. He locked himself in the small living room near the entrance.” explains Alex, distraught.

The Aussie pursues his lips. It was bound to happen eventually. He already had to manage several crises of the youngest, several breakdowns. Holding him in his arms as he cried. Helping him. Today he wasn't there and he doesn't like it.

“Take me to him.” he finally decides.

Seb and Pierre end up following them just in case. Arrived at the door of the room, he knocks softly.

“Max ? Max, it's me, Dan. Open to me please.”

On the other side, all he can hear is muffled sobs. He tries a little harder, determined not to leave his friend like this.

“Max, please. We're gonna talk about it like we used to, okay ? As long as I'm here, nothing will happen to you. Everything will be fine, believe me.”

There is movement then the click of the door which unlocks. By mutual agreement with the other drivers, he enters the room alone to find Max curled up in a corner. His heart sinks and he kneels beside him.

“Hey, hey. What's wrong ?”

The blue eyes full of tears of his former teammate cross his without that the latter doesn’t speak more and he makes the most natural gesture for him; he takes him in his arms.

“Schattig, do you know you can talk to me ? I'm here for you.”

“Schattig”, one of the Dutch words that the RedBull pilot took care to teach him. The term means "cute". Daniel always liked to call his comrade that way.

The youngest then moves back, loosening the embrace, and grabs his shoulder, his panicked azure gaze making him understand that the situation is more complicated than it seems.

“What is the problem ? What happened to you ?”

Max then opens his mouth, seeming to form a word, but no sound comes out. The Dutchman's eyes widen as he tries again but with no more success.

“Max ... you can't speak anymore ?”

He is surprised. Shocked because the situation is so strange. The youngest one lowers his head, nodding finally.

“You have to come with me, we're gonna see a doctor.”

At these words, his friend jumps back, frantically shaking his head negatively looking panicked again. Dan sighs, placing a kiss on the head of the one in front of him.

“Look, it's not against you. But we gotta see what you got.”

Max gives him an angry look before retrieving his phone from his pocket, writing a message and then showing him the screen.

_ I don't want to be seen like this. I don't want other people to know.  _

__

“Especially your father, I guess. We just have to go out, I'll speak for you and say you're a little sick. We'll get there like that for now, okay ? You really need to go see a doctor.”

The Dutchman hesitates for a moment before nodding. He takes his hand and they leave the room. Alex is the first to come to see them :

“Is he okay ?” 

“Yeah, yeah, he's just a little sick, I'm taking him to see the doctor.”

Their comrade nods in understanding, and they continue on their way. He guides his former teammate to the medical wing where he asks to see a specialist quickly.

A man in his forties arrives and they sit in a room. They face the doctor who picked up a plate to take notes.

“What is your problem ?”

Daniel hesitates for a moment before making up his mind and speaks for his friend who can’t do it anyway.

“Max can't speak anymore. He seems to be able to figure out how to form words but no sound comes out.” 

“Has he suffered a head injury recently ?”

“I don't know, I don't think so. He was doing great this afternoon apparently until ... until he got into a fight with his father.”

The Dutchman has still not let go of his hand.

“Very well. I'll do some testing. I have a few ideas which should or shouldn’t be confirmed. But right now I don't think it's serious or at least long-term.”

He nods and, beside him, the younger one seems relieved. He gets up and follows the doctor, reluctantly leaving his hand. A handful of minutes passed before the two returned.

“Good. The beginning of the case made me think of aphonia or aphasia. However, since he received no lesions, either to the head or to the throat, this diagnosis was quickly erased.”

“And so ?”

“I think the cause must be more psychological. I have in the idea in particular a blockage which can occur following a trauma or a strong emotional shock. Thus, it’s not so much that he can’t speak but more that he feels incapable of doing so. He will probably only be able to regain his voice if this trauma or shock is sorted out in some way.”

That's how they find themselves coming back to the pits, at 6:20 p.m., Max still mute and refusing to let go of his hand, Daniel saddened and feeling guilty. Maybe if he had been there he could have helped his friend and he wouldn't be like this.

“Okay, Max. We have to decide what to do ? I think we need to talk to Christian about it. Inform him, at least him. He's your superior. I just need ... need details.”

The Dutchman tilts his head to the side, intrigued.

“What were you planning to do after this race ? Where should you go ?”

His interlocutor points the finger.

“At your home ? No ? ... your family ? With your father ? Okay. First, you won't go. I would probably have you come with me, are you okay with it ?”

The Red Bull pilot looks down, his cheeks slightly flushed, before nodding more timidly.

“Good. Perfect.”

He's just trying not to think about his own misgivings. Having him at home is ... giving a chance to those feelings he buried deep in his chest. He doesn't like it but all he can think of now is to get this boy to safety.

Accompanied by the said, it’s easier to sneak up to the director who looks skeptical when he sees him.

“We have a problem ?”

“A problem ? I don't think it should concern me.”

“Max has a problem.”

Christian freezes and gives them a look.

“He can't talk anymore. It's ... trauma apparently.”

“I see. Following the argument with his father ?”

“Yes. He refuses to let him know but he is blocked. I don't know ... how to help him.”

The Briton takes a few steps forward, seeming thoughtful, before turning to them, impassive.

“Very well. Max's actions with the media will be suppressed as much as possible, although I'm not sure I can prevent them completely. However, you have to find a way to fix this.”

“Me ?”

“Yes you. In the meantime, I'll have to go. So you should go.”

They find themselves outside the circuit after collecting the youngest's belongings.

“How did you come ? By taxi ?”

Max nods and they get into his car. He makes a few jokes to relax the atmosphere which has become a little tense in the meantime, without his understanding why.

“You don't mind coming to Monaco with me at least ?”

At this sentence, the youngest vigorously shakes his head in a negative way before typing a message.

_ I know I can trust you. _

It’s moving. It's certain. Their years as comrades will have left their consequences and he is very happy.

“We'll try to be discreet.”

The Dutch's raised eyebrow is quite visible, but he thinks it’s good to add a word.

_ It's going to be complicated with you.  _

__

“You are not very kind to the one that saved your ass !”

_...why did you come directly to see me? My problems don't really concern you anymore ...  _

“What are you talking about ? It will always concern me Maxy. You know you mean a lot to me, right ?”

He has no response from his interlocutor. 

At the hotel, he collects his things before realizing that he will have to go and collect those of his companion. He doesn’t know where he stayed for this Grand Prix.

After this new stop, it's direction to the airport. Fortunately for them, Christian took care of booking a ticket for Max, ensuring their flight. They are installed side by side. He watches some movie as his friend falls asleep on his shoulder. He gently kisses his forehead and places his jacket over his shoulders to keep him from getting cold.

Daniel only wakes the sleeper when they land because, after all, he looked like he needed to sleep.

“...”

The youngest seems to open his mouth to say something but again no sound comes out and when he realizes it he looks down.

“Schattig ? We arrived.”

The Red Bull driver nods and they get up when the plane is landing to go. They take a taxi to his house.

Amazed, his comrade looks around him, seeming to relish the discovery of his apartment.

“Do you like what you see ?”

Max doesn't respond, just throwing himself on the couch and closing his eyes. He laughs softly and walks up to him. He pulls the locks of hair away from his forehead and feels the Dutchman hum, indulging in the contact.

“Sleep. I'll wake you up to eat.”

In the end he doesn’t cook either and orders Vietnamese. It’s when the delivery man rings the doorbell that his guest wakes up. He has time to settle and come back with the boxes.

“Vietnamese suits you ?”

The mute nods but adds a note to that.

_ It's not very reasonable.  _

“Are you going to teach me a lesson on ethics now ? You can take a look in the fridge, maybe I still have a salad leaf or two ?”

A smile appears on the lips of the one facing him who is content to unwrap the food. They eat in front of a series that he just comments on. His partner laughs every time but it's very strange since his voice doesn't thunder either.

Once their meal is over, he lets himself slip into the atmosphere and puts his arm around Max's shoulders. The latter freezes slightly, his cheeks blush, and he pretends not to see him.

“You know, I miss you sometimes, Maxy. I'm thinking about it. No matter how nice Nico is, he's not you. You are one of the things I regret the most.”

There is a sniffle and it takes a few moments before he realizes it was the younger one who let out silent sobs. Moreover, the latter opens his mouth to speak but seems frustrated, angry with himself, when no words come out.

Confusion takes hold of him and he comes to put his hand on his cheek, wiping the tears that flow from his pretty blue eyes.

“What's wrong ? Hey, hey ?”

With trembling fingers, his eyesight probably cloudy, the Dutchman taps a message which he then shows him.

_ How can you say it out loud like that ? You shouldn't have left then. You are impossible.  _

“You know very well why this is not possible, sweetheart. We have already discussed this. I didn't mean to make you cry.”

_ I would have preferred not to cry. Not to feel it all. It's so difficult that you don't understand me, Dan.  _

“Do you know you can talk to me ? I will always listen to you.”

The Red Bull pilot shakes his head frantically in refusal, his eyes wide open in shock and perhaps pain. He doesn't know, he's always been good enough to describe the emotions of others, those of his ex-teammate all the more but lately it's complicated.

“Please, I don't like to see you like that …”

Max gets up abruptly, finally getting rid of his embrace and remains turned, without answering. He gets up in his turn, the series being only a distant background noise.

“Max …”

_ I really thought I could manage to spend this weekend properly with you, like nothing had happened but it seems like it just reminds me of everything that happened. _

__

By the time he briefly reads the message received, his guest has already loaded his bag and quickly slams the door, fleeing from the apartment. Surprise freezes him for a moment and, by the time he rushes down the hall, his friend has disappeared.

“Shit. Shit, shit !”

Daniel really doesn't understand. For once, he is also afraid for the youngest. What is he going to do in town if he can't speak ? He must find him.

He has an enlightenment which surprises him himself or rather he is surprised not to have thought of it sooner. He dials a quick call and is relieved when you pick up the phone.

“ _Hello ?_ ”

“Pierre ? Is Charles with you ?”

“ _Um yes ? How do you know that ?_ ”

A brief smile passes over his lips. They are so cute to think they are discreet these two.

“Simple intuition. Can you call me or send me a message if Max shows up at your place ?”

“ _It's Charles' but okay. Although, wasn’t he supposed to return to the Netherlands ? Why is he here ?_ ”

He bites his lip, weighing the pros and cons. The one for whom he has feelings may resent him if he speaks but if he doesn’t, Max will still have to justify himself by coming to find refuge with the two young pilots.

“Listen. He had ... a trauma according to the doctor. He can't speak anymore. We concluded that it was after the argument with his father so I didn't want him to go home. He was with me but ... we kind of got into a fight and he walked out.”

“ _So you are worried and you would like to get him back ?_ ”

“Yes. I don’t know. I don't understand why he took a quarter-turn start like that. I just thought I would keep the conversation going and it got out of hand.”

Sighing on the other end of the line, he almost has the impression that the Frenchman is laughing at him. Which is frustrating.

“ _You know, sometimes you think too much._ ”

“What ? You know why ?”

“ _Come on, I'll hang up, I'll call you back if he arrives. See you !_ ”

He is upset when he gets hung up on him. The evening promises to be long, he calls an old friend with whom he is having a good time, drinking lightly, aware that he may be called.

Around ten-thirty, while he is sipping a beer, the said begins to ring. Vibrations. Pierre. He picks up almost immediately under the unimpressed gaze of his comrade, aware of the situation.

“Yes ?”

“ _He's there. And ... anyway. You better come pick him up ? Well, it's not that we're fed up with him, it's just that Charles would prefer that evening to be quiet and doesn't really appreciate being a pillow. Or he would like to continue ... come over, please._ ”

“Can you send me the address ?”

No sooner said than done. After a last embrace with his friend who leaves at the same time. He drives quickly.

The scene which awaits him in the villa of the youngest is puzzling. Pretty funny too. Max is lying flat on Charles who, uncomfortably, pats him gently on the back, weeping loudly at the sight of his shaken shoulders.

“Daniel ! Thank God. Can you take him ?”

“Yes, I ... yes. But where is Pierre ?”

“Kitchen.”

This is how he finds himself with a hot mass deposited on him while the Monegasque gets up to join the room he supposes to be the kitchen.

He quickly realizes that the strong smell of alcohol comes not from him but from the one he is holding in his arms. The latter, seeming to recognize him, gradually calms down. He strokes his hair tenderly.

“Hey, Maxy, everything is fine. I'm here.”

He meets the azure gaze of his former teammate and he feels his heart skip a beat. Then the youngest one’s lips rest on his. His eyes stay wide open and he melts into the kiss for a moment before realizing their action.

He then gently departs from the Dutchman who, with swollen lips, seems to be the very embodiment of temptation.

“Maxy ... you're not yourself. We’re going home okay ?”

His interlocutor nods. He keeps him against him as they get up, supporting his mate as the latter staggers.

“Young lads, we’re leaving.”

He pokes his head in the threshold, just to see the two rush away from each other. But Charles has lost his t-shirt and their scruffy looks don't fool anyone. He rolls his eyes.

“Don’t mind us.”

He leaves, dragging his drunkard with him. The ride in the car is surprisingly quiet. For a moment, he even believes that his partner has come to his senses but it is enough that they cross the threshold of the apartment for him to realize that, no, he has not.

Since Max throws himself on his neck, and he falls to the ground in surprise, before starting to kiss him in a fairly strong and daring way. He swallows as he feels his body react. How could he not react ? He has the lips of the boy he loves on his.

But that guy is more than drunk.

So, once again, using his self-control as the RedBull pilot struggles with his pants, he gently pushes him away.

“Max, you're not in your normal state. We should go to bed, we'll talk about it tomorrow, okay ?”

He finds it even more difficult to resist when his two ocean pupils are staring at him, seeming to implore something. He risks :

“You want to sleep with me ?”

The younger one nods his head softly, sounding shy of how fiery he was a few moments ago. He smiles.

“I didn’t intend to do otherwise, Schattig.”

Little routine, he brushes his teeth, manages to make his Dutch do the same and undresses him. Before going to bed, in underwear as usual, he thinks about a t-shirt before changing his mind, out of sheer laziness.

Which may not be very smart knowing that the one he is sharing his bed with seemed to have heated ideas about him but not a big deal. He also prepares a glass of water and an aspirin on the bedside table.

Once lying down, his guest sticks to him quickly enough and he lets himself go to this heat, to this happiness since he has everything he has always dreamed of. 

Even if tomorrow Max wakes up and regrets, he will have had a night. Just one, near him.

Daniel wakes up to the rays of sun that caress his face. He runs a hand through his curls before realizing that a hot mass is against him. He has a few moments before he remembers the whole situation.

He then meets a confused, panicked ocean gaze, and his owner begins to fidget then, seeming to ask a thousand and one questions that he cannot express.

“If that's what you think, no, we didn't do anything yesterday. You were too drunk, Maxy. Very drunk. Doesn't your head hurt too much ?”

His guest thought for a moment, biting the inside of his cheek before starting to gesture. Pointing behind him first with his thumb, "yesterday" he assumes, then shows himself before raising both hands in the air.

“What did you do yesterday ?”

An amused smile passes her lips.

“I'll tell you because I guess it will be better this way. You ran away from my place, apparently got drunk and found yourself at Charles' house crying against him.”

Max widens his eyes, looking already mortified by what he has just learned, and plunges his face into his hands, cheeks flushed.

“So Pierre called me, I thought it would happen. So I came to pick you up. You seemed to recognize me since you followed me without much difficulty. Oh yes. You kissed me. Several times.”

The younger one then stands up abruptly and from here he can see that his ears have turned scarlet, blushing more. He stands up in turn, placing his hand on his companion's shoulder.

“I'm not mad you know, Schattig ? I just want to know if your actions reflect your everyday thoughts or if it's just the effect of alcohol.”

_ Would that change anything ? _

The phone is handed to him although the other pilot still has not turned around. How did he even get his mobile back ? Beyond reflection, he is impressed.

“Yes, my dear. It would change how I behave around you.”

The softness of his voice ensures the Dutchman who nods his head slowly.

“That's not an answer. I can’t understand ?”

Max turns around keeping the same pace, raises his eyes hesitantly to meet his, before placing his hand on his heart.

“Perfect then.”

He leans down to capture his lips. He feels tenderness flowing in his chest, feeling his love hesitate and yet cling with all his might to this contact. When he steps back he looks at him for a moment. The message is clear in the azure irises.

“I love you too, Maxy.”

He keeps the Red bull driver in his arms with a smile. Smile that turns into surprise when he finds his partner strangely enterprising. But it's not unpleasant. He nails him to the bed.

They sleep together in a pretty virulent way. The moment is not lacking in passion, in feelings, but there is something behind it. And when he sinks deep with successive thrusts, he wishes, oh, he wishes so hard that his name would come from his lover's silent lips. He imagines it. However, never hears it.

Their situation continues in the same way. During many days. They have sex and stay together but the silence of the Dutch remains heavy. Disturbing. He tries not to take offense.

Because, despite everything, they have happy days. He has never been so happy as with his companion. He feels like he has loved her for so long …

However, the doubt remains. He is a patient man, more than patient. He knows how to give time. Yet, deep down, he needs certainty. Otherwise, he cannot prevent worries, hesitations from rising.

Which ends up invading all his thoughts. Contaminate it entirely. Bring him doubt. He is supposed to heal this boy he is holding in his arms and it is clear that he cannot. He doesn't give him back what he lost.

There are things his boyfriend doesn't tell him about. The reasons for his argument with his father for example. No matter how hard he asks him, he doesn't respond and he assumes that's it, which is why his voice is not found.

They arrive at the following Grand Prix.

Daniel dreaded him because he couldn't find answers. Back on the paddock, they must go their separate ways. It's a hard time but Max seems to be taken care of by people who are aware of his situation so he reassures himself as best he can.

Christian in the distance gives him a surprised look, not severe, almost saddened. And Nico, seeing him, grimaces :

“You look terrible. Did something happen during the short break ?”

“That much ?”

He doesn't feel like it after all. He had a good time. He shouldn't be feeling miserable. Or upset. Or desperately in need of certainties.

“I don’t know.” he then says, maybe tired.

“If It's personal, I can only advise you to talk about it. Whatever your problems or whoever it is with. Most of the time you have to say what's wrong.”

He nods, mostly in agreement. They can't go on like this. However, he knows how to be reasonable and waits until the end of the Grand Prix before doing anything. If his race was not bad in itself since he finished sixth, this is not the case with Max who had to stop along the way, a problem with his car.

They meet in secret. Behind closed doors. Eye to eye. He doesn’t handle carefully, drops down on the sofa behind them. The younger one never looked so miserable ; other than his race, something is devouring him from within.

“You have to tell me, Max.”

The other driver bites his lip, pretending not to understand what he is talking of, although he obviously knows it.

“Are you gonna continue your little game for a long time ? You know the reason why you still haven't found back your voice. It concerns me but not totally. It's something you refuse to admit to yourself.”

The Aussie runs a hand over his face, tired, by this silence, these unspoken, these lies in a way.

“Fucking hell. Do you really think I can guess ? I can't do everything for you ! I want you to talk to me. Really. With words.”

His boyfriend grabs his phone and a sort of pain-tinged rage seizes him at that moment.

“No ! That you speak to me, with words !”

Max jumps, almost dropping his mobile on the ground, before looking at him, still looking helpless, with a crestfallen expression.

“I can't stand it anymore. You don't fix the situation and it's driving me crazy. My doubts come back so fast. I am patient with you because I love you. I want to give you time, but I'm reaching my limits. Shit. I never …”

He sighs sharply, releasing himself sharply.

“I never heard you saying that you love me.”

There, his companion can only be content to observe him in silence, dumbfounded. But he's so fed up. He cannot cope with this situation. He stands up.

“In short. Come back to me when you decide to be honest or have managed to speak. In one way or another.”

He leaves the room without looking back.

A period follows during which he has no news. He sees his former teammate from afar during the Grand Prix which follows, looking withdrawn into himself, which nevertheless takes fourth place.

Then a longer delay extends. They still haven't reconnected, and at this point he's seriously starting to question how important he is to the Red Bull driver.

It’s one afternoon, while he is quietly sitting on his terrace, in the sun, that he sees the articles. From the press he usually avoids trusting but today it particularly catches his eye.

**Tensions in the Red Bull team ?**

**If the official announcement of its director Christian Horner on the decision to temporarily stop interviews for the young driver Max Verstappen seemed to have created a tense atmosphere around the group, what about the last echoes ? Indeed, despite an honorable fourth place since he made his start at the back of the grid, the Dutchman had several swells with, it would seem, his director himself and his father. Decidedly, the weather is darkening around the Red Bull team while the causes of such an outburst are once again left unsaid ...**

He shakes his head, both worried and knowing that he shouldn't be. If he is flexible, their situation will return to before. So he closes his eyes and lets himself go to relax.

Someone knocking on his door interrupts his moment. He growls for a bit before putting his phone down and getting up. He doesn't bother to put on a t-shirt or anything that could have hidden the fact that he was tanning in boxer shorts on his patio.

He is surprised to find Max, in tears behind. He is taken aback a moment before recovering. 

Although he can't help but be minimally gentle with him.

“Maxy ... what are you doing here ?”

The younger one doesn’t answer and, not seeming to take offense at his nakedness, comes to embrace him in his strong arms, continuing to tremble against him. He runs his hand behind his back and strokes it. When the Dutchman seems to slip more into the embrace, he freezes, sighing, before pulling back.

“You still can't answer me ? Still don't want to answer me ?”

“...”

“The doctor said it himself, it's psychological, Max. Psychological. As long as you don't want to get rid of it, I can't help you.”

His jaw tightens slightly and he refuses to meet the gaze of the one in front of him.

“And if you don't want my help then there's no point in seeing each other. All this is useless. I don't know what you came here for, but you were wrong. You better go back.”

He turns around, disappointed. He feels selfish, bad, but knows it's for the best. So he walks away, leaving it to his guest to return to the door.

Surprised when the latter grabs his arm.

“H … Hold on. P- … Please.”

Daniel immediately turns to this sound, hoarse, broken. To that voice that he has missed so much in recent weeks.

“Max? You just …”

The other pilot seems breathless, as if those few words had taken all his energy away. But he doesn't stop there, forcing again.

“I … love you. Don’t … don’t leave me. Please.”

The effect is immediate. He doesn't have to hear it twice. He hugs this juvenile boy who is seized with a coughing fit.

“Damn it. I'm so happy to hear you again. Even if it sounds hard. You want some water ?”

“...no. I went to talk ... to my father. That's why ... well ... I had to ... have the right words. It was hard. But I ... I was thinking of you. You were more important than anything else.”

The confession of his companion leaves him speechless for a moment because if he has suffered from his silence, these words mean a lot. He runs his hands over his cheeks, wiping away the few tears still beading in his pretty blue eyes.

“Are you sure ? You know, I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“No ! It's legitimate. You're my boyfriend so I owe you ... the truth. Y-The first argument I had ... with my father ... was because I told him that ... I liked men.”

Max looks down, biting his lip, looking almost ashamed.

“He got angry ... he said it could ruin my career. But I couldn't ... go back on it. I loved you ... for two years ... I felt like ... I had to give up. But I couldn't ... lie to myself.”

“What ?”

The younger one jumps. He would like to pinch himself to know if he heard right or not. It isn’t possible ?

“You’ve loved me for two years? Like … shortly after we became teammates ?”

The Red Bull driver suddenly becomes more shy as he nods.

“I’m an idiot. I always thought it was impossible. I thought you would never feel the same as me and yet …”

“All this time too ? You love me ?”

He smiles softly before rushing to capture the lips of the one in front of him as his only response. As the exchange intensifies, he slams him against the wall to venture under his t-shirt. The moans are a sweet melody to his ears.

“D ... Dan ... we're not ... doing that here, right ?”

He growls slightly before lifting his lover and moving quickly to the bedroom where he almost throws him on his bed, his strength regained at the same time as his happiness.

Daniel attacks his boyfriend's neck with hickeys and marks that he leaves with devotion. Their clothes fly quickly and he marvels at every sound, every noise of the Dutch.

He lets his tongue run along the already half-hard cock of his love who moans a little louder. He begins to suck it, not letting go of his eyes. When he meets his azure gaze, when Max understands that he's been looking at him from the start, he lets out a surprised gasp.

“D ... Dan …”

“Uh, uh ?”

“You ... Ah ... I …”

Making him become a moaning mess with his own hands is a pleasure in itself. He ends up freeing himself when he's sure he's brought him close enough to the precipice. He withdraws. From the drawer, he takes out lubricant and a condom.

It’s also at this moment that he again meets the gaze of the younger one in which a flame seems to burn and that the latter murmurs, almost breathless :

“Without, please. I want ... I want to feel you come ... into me.”

A carnivorous smile is placed on his lips and he hastens to introduce his lubricated fingers into his partner. When he is using two, he finds his prostate and makes his sweet prisoner arch his back. Three and he hits it regularly.

Then he goes as he pleases, his cock gradually enters the other pilot who seems to welcome him with undisguised pleasure, given the sighs released. He likes to hear everything.

The kidneys begin. It doesn't last long. The emotion of the moment seems to accentuate each of his sensations. And then comes an idea, no, a need. This needs to belong.

“Say it.”

Max looks confused and he slams their hips harder, as if displeased.

“Who do you belong to ? Say it !”

He can see his lover's conscience crumble as the latter tries to stay consistent despite everything.

“Yours. I am yours. Daniel. You ...!”

He takes control of the cock of his boyfriend and holds his movements on his thrusts.

“Dan ... Daniel ... Daniel …”

His companion comes in a stifled cry between them and his flesh tightens. It doesn't take much longer to reach his momentum in turn with a long, satisfied growl.

He then withdraws from the inside of his Dutchman and observes the hot liquid flowing on the thighs of his comrade who doesn’t take his eyes off him, looking quite tired.

A smile full of tenderness appears on his face and he comes to hug this boy who is his, his heart lifted by the love that flows at this moment.

“I love you. I love you, Maxy. I'm sorry for everything we've been through, for this difficult team change and everything it entailed.”

“No …”

Snuggled up against his chest, the other pilot's voice only seems to be a barely audible trickle of voices.

“I'm happy to be here ... I love you too, Dan, more than anything. I'm sorry it took so long to say this.”

Daniel looks once again at Max, whom he holds in his arms, who seems so fragile and yet so strong at the same time. Finally himself.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have much to say, i didn't even have much to say when I first wrote this except that I was happy I did. This is one of my first writing so I feel like ... the scenario isn't the best haha.  
> thanks for reading anyway :)
> 
> tumblr : laeana


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